


Scars

by aeryntheofficial



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Scars, Self-Doubt, combat related injuries, mentions of a bomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeryntheofficial/pseuds/aeryntheofficial
Summary: Modern!Boba Fett x ReaderBoba is finally returning home from serving in the armed forces. However, he is also coming home with some new scars and is terrified of your reaction.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader, Boba Fett/You
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	Scars

Boba Fett was not a man who let inconveniences in life stop him or slow him down in any capacity. Yet, as he disembarked the plane, the air bridge connecting the craft to the airport felt suffocating. He feels his heart slamming against his rib cage as he exits the bridge and enters the large corridor of the airport that will lead him home. 

Lead him to you.

His flight was a late one, and him and the other passengers of the aircraft seem to be the only ones in the massive building. He follows them, all walking in a head towards the security gates. 

_Like lambs to the slaughter_ , he finds himself thinking.

Or perhaps...he’s the only one that feels this way. The black sheep of the crowd, in his army green fatigues and duffel slung over his shoulder. He should be excited to walk past the exit gate. He should be excited to see you after almost three full years away from you. Three years of not feeling your lips on his own or knowing your touch when he falls asleep and wakes up. Yet with each footstep that brings him closer to you, the desire to run back onto the plane and beg them to take him anywhere but here claws up his chest. 

He pushes out of the crowd of passengers quickly, making a beeline for the bathroom he spotted just seconds ago. It’s the only place he can think of where he will have a moment alone. A moment away from all of the curious stares and quiet ‘shushes’ as parents tell their children not to point. He wants nothing more than to escape from reality for just a moment.

But as he bursts through the door of the restroom, reality is staring him straight in the face. Forcing itself upon him in the form of a reflective mirror above the sinks. He wants to look away. Wants to avoid looking at the reason for his fear and the thing that is keeping him from running to you this very moment. 

But he can’t.

As his feet carry him closer to the mirror he can’t seem to make himself look away. Instead of the face he knew you fell in love with staring back at him, it’s someone completely different in his eyes. Gnarled white scars wrap around his face and head. The skin stretched tight over the bone and muscle beneath, shiny and smooth to the touch. He reaches up a shaking hand, fingers running slowly over the damaged skin, a testament to the pain and horrors he encountered in the battle field. While most of his scarring is centered on the back and top of his head, one runs all the way over his right eyebrow down to the bridge of his nose. 

It was an ambush that did this. 

The damn terror group they were chasing had a bomb specialist. Who also had a sick fascination with acid. He was trying to warn his brother in arms when it went off, the acid spewing everywhere, and a nice piece of shrapnel catching him in the face as well. He spent the next six months in the hospital recovering. And when he was finally cleared, they sent him home. Something that excited you and terrified him. You know what happened. You had called him almost every day in that godforsaken hospital. But you haven't seen him, you don’t know the extent of his injuries, and that’s what causes terror to grip at his heart. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, tearing his eyes away from his reflection and dropping his head to look down at the sink. His hands brace on the edge, as if that will somehow ground him in this moment. He catches sight of his watch as he looks down, and his eyes widen slightly at the amount of time that has passed since he’s disembarked his flight. As much as he’s afraid of you seeing him, he’s more afraid of making you worry for him by keeping you waiting. 

So, taking a deep breath, he pushes off the sink. He stoops down and grabs his duffel bag, squares his shoulders and exits the restroom. It’s now or never. 

By the time he makes it back to the exit gate, there is no one else waiting to greet their loved ones from the flight. He sees you instantly, sitting on one of the benches wringing your hands together worriedly. He feels a pang of guilt shoo through him at the sight. He never wanted to worry you, and he let something as silly as his self image hurt you. He walks down the incline slowly, still trying to buy himself as much time as possible. But at the sounds of his boots on the tile, your head snaps up. He sees you do a quick double take, his appearance making you take a moment to recognize him. But when you do, a breathtaking smile splits your lips and you jump from your seat and run the last few yards to meet him. You launch yourself into his arms, forcing Boba to drop his bag to catch you. 

For just a moment, as Boba holds you in his arms and breathes in your scent for the first time in years, all of his insecurities melt away. He pulls you tighter to him, almost crushing you, but he can’t find it in him to care, and neither can you. 

“I missed you so much, Boba,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck as you speak. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, “ _Maker_ ,” he curses the way his voice cracks, “I missed you too, princess. You have no idea.”

You both cling to each other for a moment longer, before you move to pull away. Boba reluctantly sets you back on your feet and quickly drops his eyes to the floor when he feels your own gaze roam over his face. As silly as it sounds, he feels like your eyes burn into his skin as they finally take in the extent of his injuries for the first time.

“Not what you were expecting?” his words come out with much more venom than he intends, and he wants to take them back the moment your lips turn down into a frown. 

You don’t respond to his comment. Instead you slowly reach your hand out towards his face, stopping only when he flinches away from you. You feel tears well up in your eyes at the action, realizing how much this has affected the man you love. 

“Boba…” you whisper, hand finally resting on his cheek, your fingers tracing the scars below his ear gently, “I’m just happy you came back to me alive,” you say quietly.

He scoffs, still avoiding your gaze, “Alive, but broken and bruised. I’m not-” he clears his throat, trying to swallow past the lump that has formed there and fighting against the unfamiliar sting at the backs of his eyes, “I’m not the same man who left you three years ago. _Look at me_.”

At his words you place your other hand on his cheek as well, forcing him to finally look at you as you speak. “I _am_ looking at you Boba,” you say firmly, “And all I see is the man I _love_. The man I love more than anything in this world,” your voice is fierce as you continue, “We both knew the risks going into this relationship. But nothing that has happened while you’ve been gone has changed how I feel about you. _Nothing_.”

Boba isn’t a man who shows emotion much. But in this moment, he finds himself fighting back tears, not wanting to cry in what should be a happy moment. He places his hands on your hips and gives you a hesitant smile. 

“You love me even though I look like a topographical map of Makeb?” he jokes.

You let out a laugh, the action forcing a few tears out of your eyes, which you quickly wipe away. “Of course I love you,” you run a gentle finger over the scar above his right brow, “Now there’s just new things I get to memorize about you,” you say fondly, eyes finally falling to meet his. 

Boba doesn’t waste another second. He squeezes your hips and leans in to connect his lips to yours, an action which you happily return. He still has a lot to overcome, but as he holds you in his arms, and your lips meld with his…

He knows everything will be okay.


End file.
